


Down to Earth

by morrigone



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7058584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrigone/pseuds/morrigone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus and Shepard are definitely attracted to each other. Unfortunately, they're both convinced the other one is uninterested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Hey, Shepard. Here's a question."

Shepard looked up from her careful decryption work. Despite the important mission they were on, she continued to meticulously unlock every single door she came across. Hey, there could be medi-gel in there! Or credits!

"Have you ever considered  _ not _ taking me on every single mission?"

"What do you mean, Vakarian?"

"I mean," Garrus said, "You might want to give the others a chance to fight with you. They're getting bored."

Shepard smirked, shifting her biotic amp slightly to the right. There. Open. She stood up, credits in hand.

"Well. Let's think. Thane is terminally ill. Jack always manages to accidentally hit me with her biotics. Jacob never says anything funny. Should I go on?"

Garrus inspected her profile cautiously. Her blunt haircut was tucked behind her ears in that practical, extremely attractive way she had about her.

"Are you sure you don't just have a thing for guys with beaks?" he asked.

"Oi, could you two maybe stop flirting for five minutes?"

That was Miranda. Shepard glared at her. Garrus flexed his mandibles in what Shepard could now recognize as a grin.

"She can't resist me."

"Hey, Garrus?" Shepard smiled sweetly, "Shut up."

 

—-

 

"I think it was ridiculous for Miranda to imply that there's... Something. Between me and Vakarian."

"I think it's ridiculous that there IS something between you and Vakarian," said Tali, not even raising her head.

Engineering was one of Shepard's favorite areas of the Normandy, aside from her personal cabin. She rarely invited people up there, because it always ended in rumors about her having favorites. Besides, as Allers had so-eloquently put it, her crewmates might start "following her home." So her cabin was really just where she slept.

Tali pushed a few buttons. Shepard could sense the smile behind her mask.

"If there were something between me and him, don't you think I'd be the first to know?"

Tali's silence spoke volumes. She was a good friend, even if she did like to mock her commander. Shepard valued her honesty, even if it also infuriated her.

"Tali. I'm a human. He doesn't even like me that way. Whenever I go to see him he's always 'calibrating.'"

Shepard was still unsure what that meant, but too much time had gone by for her to ask without embarrassing herself.

"Playing with his big gun?"

"Tali..."

"Making sure he shoots his load with precision?"

"I'm leaving now."

"Wait! Let me think..."

 

—-

 

Shepard had been standing behind Garrus for what felt like forever. He pushed a couple of buttons and shifted his weight slightly from one foot to the other. She could probably just leave and he wouldn't even have noticed she was ever there. Shepard had taken a couple of training courses on the mathematics behind ship maintenance, and it was not fun stuff. She would probably prefer killing husks to it. Or squishing those icky little rachni things. Ew.

When she came to think of it, turian bodies weren't that different from human bodies. They had hair of some sort, though it was really more like a fringe. Their chests were broader, their waists smaller. Their hips…

"Are you checking out my ass?"

So Garrus  _ had _ known she was there! Sneaky turian bastard.

Sneaky turian bastard with a voice like a husky angel. Uh, Archangel.

"Just, um, inspecting the... perimeter. Captain's duties."

Garrus turned around slowly. His periwinkle eyes sparkled, and Shepard melted a bit. He paused.

"Earth was rough," he remarked cautiously.

Shepard nodded.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

The question caught her off guard. It wasn't as if she thought Garrus was particularly insensitive. It was just that all the turians she had met up until this point hadn't exactly been adept at interpreting emotion.

Shepard had blocked out any feelings she had about earth. It was all too raw, too fresh. She couldn't afford to jeopardize the mission by letting her personal feelings taint her decisions. She had just as much of a duty to help the other races. And yet she couldn't help but find it difficult to be objective. Not when her planet was burning.

"I'll be okay," she said brusquely. Good commanders stay serious. Good commanders don't show it when they're in pain. Good commanders don't let it phase them when their fellow soldiers place their hand on her shoulder. Shepard could feel herself burning up with that simple touch.

"Shepard. How long have we known each other?"

"Three years?"

"And yet you still think I can't tell when you're lying?"

His hand rubbed a bit. It was an awkward gesture. Shepard could tell he wasn't used to physical contact, at least not of the type that humans did. She wondered how turian couples showed they cared about each other. Calibrating together? Joint target practice? Polishing their armor? She smirked.

"You're oblivious to everything human, Vakarian."

Garrus took a step towards her. Somehow she found herself with her back to his terminal, and she took a sharp intake of breath when her backside touched the cold screen. Garrus did not step away. The hand that had been on her arm made its way to lightly rest on her cheek. Turian fingers were sharper than human fingers. His caress scratched a bit, but was gentle enough that he didn't hurt her. The main difference between turian and human physiology was the thickness of the skin. Shepard wondered, not unselfconsciously, how the turian saw her. Just the slightest dig and inky red would stain his fingers. Like skin, her dense personality encased her like thick armor, and for Garrus it was as simple as a brush of the fingers to bring her out.

"Is that so?"

She hoped he couldn't feel her shiver under the vibration of his lower subharmonics. She said nothing.

"Well," he continued into the air of her silent desire, "I wouldn't mind being taught a thing or two."

Shepard blinked. Garrus felt her trace the outlines of his face. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him. Was he just another turian to her? He noticed that unlike his people, humans had the tendency to make generalizations about others based on meaningless physical differences. But Shepard was different. She seemed to genuinely care about other races. In fact—she almost didn't seem human at all. In the best way.

Of course he couldn't deny her beauty. But it was more than that. It was the way she spoke. The way she could convince just about anyone of anything, peacefully. It was the way she carried herself. She did not apologize with her posture. Despite how short she was, he could always pick her out of a crowd purely by the way she tilted her chin up. It was her laugh. It was the way her smiles always started out as smirks, and then slowly grew larger and then, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, it would be a full grin.

Shepard graced him with one such smile through her clear curiosity.

"Care to elaborate, Vakarian?" she murmured.

They were standing so close now that he could feel her soft breath on his chin. He was so tall that he had to tilt his head down to look at her. He forced himself to meet her gaze—to stare directly into that radiance that both frightened and excited him. He felt the heat pool in his stomach as their eyes met. Her eyes were not a typical shade of brown. They were a sort of peridot-amber that twinkled in her attentiveness. Or maybe they really were just brown and seemed so fantastic because he was really, deeply in love with her.

"It'd be easier," Garrus said, sliding his left hand around her waist, "If I could show you..."

The doors slid open and Garrus stepped away abruptly, his hand finding the back of his neck in a gesture of embarrassment.

Shepard peered over his shoulder. There was nobody in the doorway. It slid closed once more, and they both jumped when they heard EDI's voice over the intercom.

"Mr. Vakarian, I have been receiving some unusual instructions from your terminal. Are you certain that is the direction you wish to point our artillery?"

Garrus frowned.

"No, just let me fix that."

"Are you certain? I would be happy to take over calibrations for you."

"Yes! I'll fix it."

Shepard smoothed out her overalls and stepped away. She turned, allowing her companion to resume his work. However, as she walked away she continued to feel his gaze. She looked over her shoulder. Garrus had not gone back to his terminal. He was watching her go like a man possessed.

Who cared at this point? She was commander fucking Shepard. She did what she wanted.

She turned back around and strode toward him purposefully, with the expectation that he would flinch or push her away. With surprise, she quickly realized that he was ready for her, arms wrapping around her waist. She stood up on her toes and their lips met. The kiss, unlike the way she had practically slammed into his body as she had approached him, was slow and gentle. Their heads tilted slowly. She could feel everything, from the heat radiating off of his body to the way his arm slid down hers. Lower, lower…

It was just when she thought they couldn't physically get any closer when—

"Mr. Vakarian. The rocket blaster."

Garrus' breathing was ragged. He pulled away for a second.

"I'm doing it, EDI," his subharmonics rumbled with annoyance and... something else.

"I know. But if you could get back to your calibrations, that would be a preferable course of action."

Shepard smiled into Garrus' mouth. This was going to be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

Joker slammed his hands down inches from the button that triggered the ship's auto-self-destruct feature. He winced, squinting at his hand and subtly trying to figure out whether he had sprained anything.

"Jeff, please be careful."

"Shit!"

"May I inform you that humans can be attracted to many types of people? This objectively should not be as distressing as you find it."

"EDI, that's just weird. I... shit..."

Shepard heard this general commotion as she approached the cockpit. She immediately froze. Was EDI telling Joker about Garrus? She backed up, trying to get into a position where she couldn't be spotted but could still listen to their conversation. This was quite difficult, as the cockpit was specially designed with a stretch of open hallway so it was virtually impossible to sneak up on Joker. This was for everybody's safety. As much as she resented his cockiness, he really was the most important member of the crew.

"I really can not understand why you are so distressed."

"Because! I..."

Shepard gave in. She strode into the cockpit.

"Alright, you two. What's going on here?"

Joker turned around, very nearly knocking his massive cup of black coffee over. His eyes were somewhat hazy, pupils flicking back and forth occasionally. No matter what he was doing, his mind was always on the ship's controls—making adjustments, accelerating, decelerating, swerving to avoid passing comets.

"Commander! Uh... how long have you been standing there?"

Shepard's expression said something along the lines of 'long enough.'

"Shepard," EDI turned her robotic head.

"Mr. Moreau has been distressed since I told him that technically, the only female aspects of me are my voice and body."

Well, that wasn't what she expected.

Joker gave EDI a venomous expression which bounced off of the AI like arrows on Shepard's blood dragon armor.

"Wait, what?"

"It's weird, okay!"

Joker, who normally was dead-panned and sarcastic, sounded practically childish at this point.

"Joker, you're an asshole."

"Commander..."

"You're dating a robot and you're just now finding it weird."

"It's weird that she could put on a man voice! I don't give a shit whether she came out of a human or a block of metal."

Shepard was tired of this, and now that she knew that EDI wasn't blabbing about what she was getting up to with the ship's resident turian, she decided to let them sort it out on their own. After all, she had romantic issues of her own. If Joker thought dating a genderless robot was odd...

Shepard turned around and began to walk away.

"You know, Jeff, some people are not attracted to members of the opposite sex."

"I'm not listening, EDI!"

"The decision to assign me a gender based on superficial characteristics was your own doing."

"I changed my mind, commander! Can we turn it off now?"

Shepard smirked.

"Get a room, you two!" she called over her shoulder.

 

—-

 

Thrusters in position—check.

Rocket blasters fully loaded—check.

Thrusters in... wait, didn't he already check that?

Garrus was more than a little distracted. All he could think about was Shepard's shoulders. He had placed one hand on them when they were talking about earth. He had felt how incredibly warm she was. Turians weren't exactly cold-blooded, but their internal body temperature was much below that of humans. And Shepard was, well...

"Hot. Incredibly hot."

Garrus' neck snapped up. Had he said that aloud?

"Mr. Vakarian. Our weapons are going to overheat if you set a value that high."

"Right. I know."

The problem, aside from the rocket blasters, was that he really had no idea where to go from here. He wanted her. Like, really badly. But what did she want?

Interspecies sexual intercourse wasn't unheard of, but it was hard to determine what Shepard wanted exactly.

Actually at this point, it was hard every time he thought about her.

Would it be wrong if, just for a moment, he dug his fingers in and felt that hot blood for himself? Turians were not notorious for their gentle nature, in battle and in the bedroom. And the last thing he wanted to do was push her away...

He supposed he could do some research. Whatever that meant. Browsing intergalactic porn websites was not exactly a productive use of the Normandy's resources. But just a look couldn't hurt...

"Hey, Garrus."

The softest tone. A touch of huskiness, curiosity, affection... Shepard.

Garrus quickly realized that there was an extremely bare human backside on his screen, complete with her fully emerged turian... friend. He frantically attempted to close alienkink.co.gal.

"I've never seen you close your 'calibrations' so fast..." Shepard murmured. She had clearly seen it.

"Oh! Uh... Private values, Shepard. What if you had been a spy? The Normandy's blasters are set to work at maximum efficiency. If a reaper saw my, um, values? They might—"

He stopped when he felt Shepard's body press against him from behind. She wrapped her arms around his waist, rested her head on his shoulder. The warmth was indescribable. Every part of her fit perfectly. The two races couldn't be more different, and yet there was something about her presence that made every part of him tingle. As if her body were a magnet. He knew it was partly emotional. He had never felt as if he trusted someone more. Or needed someone more.

"I'm your commanding officer, soldier," she whispered, fingers curling tantalizingly. She had to stand on her toes to reach his ear, breath ghosting on his neck like a promise.

"I think I have a right to see your... Values."

Garrus' face turned an even deeper shade of gray, blushing furiously. Yes, they had kissed. Yes, her body was, at present, very close to his. But maybe she just enjoyed making him squirm. Or worse, maybe she was just taking advantage of the fact that he would follow her to the ends of the universe if she asked him. His commander clearly had a lot of stress to blow off. Maybe she wasn't interested in anything other than sex.

He felt her burning lips touch his neck, and dammit if he didn't mind being used a little.

"Shepard..." he sighed, attempting to control his tone. The accuracy of his subharmonics betrayed him, lust evident in his tone. It was almost a growl.

"Soldier?" she breathed onto his neck.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

He cursed himself, but he had to ask. If he ruined their friendship... This was very, very against regulations.

Shepard backed away a bit. She did not look hurt or put off. In fact, she seemed cooler about this than he was. He finally turned around, and that smile was everything.

"You'll think about it," she said, smoothing over his fringe. He shivered.

How could he not, at this point?

 

——-

 

"Distracted. Aimless. Not performing calibrations optimally. Stress? No, turian brain naturally low in dopamine. Angry? No visible clenching of jaw or facial muscles. Diagnosis: turian flu. Prognosis: fatal."

Mordin's words were like darts, fired from his serpentine mouth. Tipping quietly from flask to beaker, the murky green substance crawled with not a drop gone astray. Mordin flinched as Garrus picked up the beaker to inspect it.

"Foreign pathogens. Please do not touch."

"I'm not sick, Mordin. I'm..."

What the heck was he?

This was just going to be a fling. Obviously Shepard didn't want him as a long-term boyfriend. He knew that she wanted him. But this had to only be experimentation. Once she had her fun with the turian, she would probably toss him aside. After all, he wasn't exactly good looking, not even by turian standards. What could he be to her if not a phase? Garrus sighed.

"Confused."

"Can tell that much."

Garrus scratched the back of his neck, which was getting pretty raw by this point, what with all the nervous scratching he was doing.

"If I could j—"

The turian was interrupted by a thermometer being shoved into his mouth. He pulled it out distractedly. Mordin did not notice, having already resumed his exchange of fluid from beaker to beaker. He had added a clear solution which caused the green murkiness to separate and bleed like the contents of a lava lamp. Garrus began to wander out. He paused at the door.

"Mordin?"

"Yes."

Garrus turned slightly.

"Can turians and humans copulate?"

This question would have any one of his companions either laughing or confused. Mordin simply paused, as if performing mental math. The mixture was now fizzing, teasing the rim of the glass in a lime-colored frenzy.

"Any species can copulate, with few modifications to natural mating patterns. Most zygotes will be sterile, however."

Garrus touched his fringe self-consciously.

"Can turians and humans... fall in love?"

Mordin looked him in the eyes suspiciously

"Do not understand the question."

Garrus just shrugged. The calculating salarian should probably just stick to science, he thought. He would have to figure this out for himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Another day, another mission. Today they were scouting an as-yet-unexplored planet, but unfortunately not much progress was being made, Shepard thought, as she rammed the Hammerhead into yet another tree. Where did they keep coming from? This should be such a straightforward mission, and yet she couldn't even get the damn navigation to work properly. No, I'm not going to that tree. Or that one. Or-- shit, not again.

"Try not to hold the accelerator when you're pointed in the direction of a tree. That might help," Garrus said helpfully.

"You try flying the giant pointy motorized tampon," Shepard mumbled, attempting to turn the Hammerhead around.

"What's a tampon?" Liara asked.

"Uh, don't worry about it," Shepard said, having forgotten the company she was in.

She shifted on her haunches, still trying to get at least a little comfortable in the cramped ship. She had finally made her way out of the small grove and was lightly skirting the cliff, which rewarded the trio with a brilliant view of the valley below. The sky was richly saturated with jewel-toned clouds, sailing across a pastel periwinkle sky as gently as any spaceship (except the Hammerhead, perhaps.)

Being in a tiny ship with Garrus was awkward enough, especially now that she had reflected on all that had happened. Shepard felt a bit ashamed at the way she had treated her companion. She had forgotten that they were of different worlds, and if any species was the type not to take their romance lightly, it was the turians. She loved him dearly, but she realized that she would have to approach any sort of romance cautiously, being not only a human but also his superior officer. It was a lot to keep in one's head at once--this simultaneous caution and longing. On his way to scratch his shoulder, Garrus brushed her thigh, and Shepard couldn't help but shiver.

Slowly, slowly, she told herself. Let's not scare him off.

Hopefully she hadn't already, she thought as she slammed into another tree.

 

\---

 

There was a knock at Shepard's door. She finished zipping up her overalls and quickly smoothed out her hair, which she was half-tempted to chop off again, having reached that length where it managed to get in her eyes no matter what she did.

"Yes?"

"It's Garrus."

Wasn't it always? Shepard feigned coolness.

"Come on in, Vakarian."

Garrus opened the door, and she stood up from her bed, peering at him curiously through the frosted glass of her private terminal. His face danced and warped as he emerged from behind the wall. There was that smile in his eyes, warmth emanating from that simple look, and Shepard almost lost her resolve. She forced her voice into an unaffected monotone.

"Something you need?"

Garrus smiled, and Shepard realized he probably thought she was just being coy.

"I can think of a few things..." he murmured, stepping towards her in that gentle, gliding footstep characteristic of the turians. As he approached her, Shepard stepped back awkwardly. Garrus blinked at her, but did not come any closer.

"Do you want a drink?" she asked abruptly, turning toward the alcohol cabinet without waiting for an answer. She would surely lose her resolve if she looked into those eyes for one more second. She approached the bar, readying some glasses to distract herself.

"Have any speciality turian brews?" he chuckled, setting himself down lightly onto her bed, bouncing playfully. Playful. That was not a word she would normally use to describe Garrus.

"Sure. A few dozen for all the turians I invite up here. Take your pick."

Shepard's hands shook as she poured the one drink she had--red wine. Luckily, it was a beverage that was safe for all races. She felt an arm snake around her, incredibly warm and close. Garrus held the glass so she could pour.

"Thanks..."

Garrus didn't step away.

"Shepard."

She breathed in sharply when she felt his mandibles scrape her neck. Having only been with human men, it was an odd sensation. Not bad. Just... different. Just strange enough that she kind of wanted him to do it again.

"Look at me," Garrus' subharmonics vibrated deep in her body, making her hyper aware of all the points at which they were touching. As if his words were a magnet, drawing her to him, Shepard turned around slowly. Garrus' eyes narrowed, and it was as if her entire nature was unfolded before him. Shepard felt incredibly exposed under his burning gaze.

"Tell me, plain and simple," he said, voice barely rising in volume, "Are you attracted to me, Shepard?"

God, yes.

Her mouth opened. She felt like she was looking at herself from outside her body and had no control of the words coming out.

"I'm your commanding officer. Anything between us would be inappropriate."

Garrus tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His hands were curious, as if he had never felt human hair before, touched human skin. Everything was novel, it seemed, for both of them.

"That wasn't the question I asked."

She was cornered. Both physically and metaphorically.

"Then... yes."

Garrus smiled.

"That makes two of us then."

He leaned in and closed the distance between their mouths. She felt the warmth of his touch on her bare shoulders, which, curiously enough, were the only part of her body that was not covered by her overalls.

Why, Shepard wondered, Have I never kissed a turian before?

One would think that the human mouth would have great difficulty in finding any sort of pleasant sensation against the comparatively hard turian mandibles. However, with Garrus it was easy. Pleasant, even. Mandibles were different, dryer. But there was the same gentleness and warmth of a human kiss.

His hands, tentatively exploring her body, seemed to support her. It was as if his touch was gently, softly telling her, ‘I've got your six.’

Garrus pulled away for a moment, looking at her. Really looking at her. Shepard knew, in that moment, that it did not matter what she looked like. Every molecule of her, from her matted hair to the interplanetary dirt that never seemed to leave her nail beds, was beautiful to him. Not even beautiful, in the traditional sense, but just Shepard. Which, in his mind, was probably the same thing.

She found her hands traveling, just as curiously as his but perhaps more restrained. His rested on top of hers as she slid down his waist. He showed her how to unlock his chest plate. She rested her hands on the bare, tough skin.

"No wonder you never complain about your injuries," she murmured, kissing him lightly. Garrus laughed.

"No wonder you humans bleed so damn much," he said, his eyes taking in the curves of her body, the thin skin under the tight jumpsuit, gaze eventually resting, fixated on her bare shoulder.

Shepard smiled slowly, hands pausing at her zipper.

"If you like that, you should see what's under it."

Garrus inhaled softly, hands sliding up to help her begin to unzip.

"Under your skin?" he said to her chest.

Shepard laughed.

"My clothes, Vakarian. Though it's interesting your mind went there..."

"Are we having sex or an anatomy lesson?"

Shepard leaned in, kissing him again.

"Why choose?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you so much for all the nice comments! I really started writing this just for fun (and to get my Shakarian feelings out) but I'm glad people are enjoying it <3


	4. Chapter 4

One thing that made Earth far superior to the Normandy was natural sunlight. In those few blissful months before the reaper invasion, Shepard had once again gotten used to pleasurable sensations like eating hot food, breathing fresh air, and being awoken by sunlight on her body.

Not that the kisses of a sleepy turian were much of a different sensation.

"Good morning, commander..." Garrus smiled, hand slipping under the covers. Shepard inhaled sharply as she felt his cold claws graze her back. Turians were good for lots of things, but they were seriously lacking in the body temperature department.

"Mmm, too early for that. Try me in an hour."

Shepard flipped onto her back, pressing the small, Alliance-issued pillow into her face.

"Is that how the first human spectre gets ready to face the day?"

"The first human spectre," she mumbled into her pillow, "Has never slept with a turian before."

Garrus laughed, smoothing her hair.

"Don't generalize, commander. Not every turian has my unique... abilities."

His claw traced the outline of her stomach. It dipped down the curve of her hip, sliding to the soft skin of her inner thigh. Shepard squirmed. She was extremely ticklish. Her one weakness. Along with her weakness for turians with sexy voices and long, talented claws.

"What... abilities are those, Vakarian?"

Shepard struggled to maintain composure. She was definitely awake now, her legs twitching as his claws brushed the sensitive area where her leg met her hip.

"Teasing you senseless." Garrus' subharmonics rumbled.

The intercom crackled, and Shepard jumped at the sudden noise, sitting bolt upright. Garrus' claw scratched her leg slightly and she felt the skin break.

"Uh... Commander?"

"Spit it out, Traynor."

Shepard's voice was scratchy. She rubbed absentmindedly at her throat, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to stand up. She looked down at herself, realizing she was fully naked.

"The Salarian ambassador has been waiting on vid comm for hours."

Shepard felt Garrus' eyes on her back as she rushed over to the closet.

"I'll be there in five."

There was no response. Shepard rummaged through her clothing. Formal dress, overalls, suit jacket…

"I like what you have on now."

Shepard smirked, grabbing some plain pants and a shirt.

Now what had she done with that bra?

 

\---

 

"Consider what we discussed, commander," the councilor purred as Shepard stormed out of the comm room.

There had been no discussion, really. Shepard knew the krogans. Sure, physically they were unparalleled by any known alien race. But it wasn't up to her to prevent them from procreating. That was just cruel. In fact…

"Shepard. Can we talk?"

Miranda approached her cautiously. Her hips were stiff, missing their usual characteristic swagger that was likely programmed into her  genetics.

"What can I do for you?" Shepard asked stiffly. Her mind was quite obviously somewhere else. She forced herself to concentrate.

"Maybe we should speak privately."

Miranda's office was perfect for her. A place for everything and everything in its place, as the old human cliché went. Miranda straightened an already-straight clipboard, dark eyes fringed with soft lashes blinking up at Shepard.

"I get the feeling you haven't been... focused on the mission lately."

Shepard raised her eyebrows, drawing herself up and watching Miranda warily. If she only knew…

"And when did you decide that was your business, Lawson?"

Miranda frowned. The clipboard was pushed nervously aside in a jerky motion.

"You're in charge on this ship, but I work for Cerberus. Therefore, I'm responsible to ensure the mission goes according to plan. Commander."

Shepard sat on the edge of Miranda's desk. She looked at the perfect clipboard, the alphabetically-arranged files. A file on the Reapers was carefully propped up against her computer monitor. Shepard thought of the reapers, of the people dying back on Earth. Hundreds. Every day.

This was exactly the wrong time to fall in love.

"You're... right." Shepard paused. "Thank you."

Miranda looked surprised, but she just nodded, finally breaking eye contact.

"Of course, commander."

 

\---

 

The AI core wasn't exactly private. It was also weird, considering whoever visited it was literally inside EDI. But she only spoke when prompted, and it was quiet, save for the whirring of the shiny Cerberus replicas of the original Normandy's parts, including a large nuclear generator, which Shepard was now leaning against.

"Shepard! Commander Shepard! The people back on Earth have some questions for you!"

A perfect, if low-pitched, imitation of al-Jilani echoed through the heavy metal door.

"Very funny, Garrus."

Garrus slid the door open, peering cautiously through the crack. He stepped in gently--when he was around Shepard, everything about him was gentle and considered. He looked around the dark AI core, which smelt of dust, metal, and burnt rubber. He crossed the room to Shepard's generator.

"Before you ask, I refuse to be the one who tells EDI she needs to invest in some deodorant," he said, sliding down and crouching on the floor next to Shepard.

He paused, as if he half-expected EDI to make some sort of funny quip back, but she was silent. Maybe she recognized that this was a personal moment between the friends. If so, she really was becoming more human. Or maybe she wasn't listening. Or maybe she didn't care.

Garrus placed his hand over Shepard's, which was resting on the cold aluminum panels of the AI core.

"Are you gonna tell me what's bothering you, or are we gonna do this the hard way?"

Shepard couldn't help but allow the smirk to tease her lips. Damn Garrus and that damn charming voice.

"No need for the hard way, thanks."

"Shame," Garrus murmured. He used a single claw to brush her hair behind her ear, mandibles ghosting over her exposed neck. The muscles in Shepard's shoulder clenched, but she didn't push him away.

"Garrus," she sighed.

"Mm?"

He kissed her neck, pulling lightly on the thin strap of the fancy dress she had worn to meet with the Salarian ambassador. It was all wrinkled now, she thought.

Shepard had never been forced to focus on her appearance before, but her job was quickly morphing from soldier to intergalactic diplomat. Though at the moment looks were the least of her troubles.

Anyway, she supposed at least _some_ good diplomats had wrinkled clothing.

"Do you..." she paused, "Do you think we're doing everything we can? For Earth, I mean... And Palaven, of course."

Garrus looked up, smiling ruefully.

"That depends... Do you have a Prothean device ready to deploy any time soon?"

"Yeah, it's in my cabin but I've been saving it for a special occasion."

They made eye contact. Their sarcasm complemented each other's perfectly, bitterness to bitterness. They were aliens in their appearance, puzzle pieces in their behavior.

"Have you ever thought that maybe we should be focusing more on the mission?" Shepard asked.

Garrus shifted his mandibles thoughtfully, as if he were about to say something. His hand rested on Shepard's thigh, right where her skin met the hem of her dress. It was where he had scratched her this morning.

"I can't imagine what could be distracting you, commander."

Shepard was silent. Garrus met her gaze. He rested on his knees, facing Shepard head-on. His eyes glowed.

"You want to know what I think?" he asked.

She did not respond, raising her eyebrows. Garrus continued.

"I think you're damn good soldier... I think you've been a damn good commander to this whole crew. But it was only after I realized I was in love with you that I knew exactly what we were fighting for.”

He paused.

“It's us, Shepard."

Shepard had never heard him say "love". It sounded odd coming out of his mouth, which was so commonly used for phrases such as "Understood, commander" or "This damn gun still needs calibrating". There was a raw intensity behind it. He was telling the truth.

"But... is this the right time?"

"Should we wait until we're dead?"

There wasn't a hint of humor in his voice this time. His gaze maintained its bright, present nature, but now it was combined with a gravity that held Shepard in place. Her hand moved. It brushed the rough edges of Garrus' face. This probably the best friend she'd ever had. Would it really be so wrong to just…

Shepard leaned in, kissing him softly. The word "love" was still repeating itself in the back of her mind, chanting, echoing, reverberating until every crevice in her brain was filled with it; filled with him.

Garrus placed his hand behind her head, and they slid down the side of the generator until Shepard was lying down. Garrus' hand slid under her dress, but she stopped him, pulling away, breathing ragged.

"You first this time."

She sat up, propped up on one elbow. She reached out. The clasps of his armor were cold to the touch, rusty.

"Do you remember how to undo that?"

Shepard smiled, eyes meeting his.

"Nope," she said, "But for you, I think I can learn."


End file.
